


Love Letter Straight from the Heart

by Persiflage



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Future Fic, Kissing, Love Confessions, Love Letters, Mentions of Joey/His Boyfriend, Mentions of Mack/Elena, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV Second Person, POV Skye | Daisy Johnson, Phil Coulson is a Lovesick Fool, Sharing a Bed, Spooning, Tumblr Prompt, byebyehiatus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 04:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7999135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daisy finds an unfinished letter from Phil to her that changes everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Letter Straight from the Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the #byebyehiatus Skoulson mini fest on Tumblr, for the prompt: _Daisy accidentally finds some sort of (love?) letter draft from Coulson. because he would totally try to write her a letter and then just give up because everything would sound pathetic._

You're rummaging in Phil's desk drawer, trying to find the memory stick that you loaned him with episodes of the X-Files on. You have a hankering to watch some tonight, probably brought on by the fact that almost everyone's out somewhere. Phil and May have gone with the new Director to a meeting with Talbot (and you're staying out the way of both Talbot and the Director as much as possible); Fitz and Simmons are meeting up with Dr Radcliffe (whom you are also avoiding because he brings back bad memories); and Mack and Elena have gone out on a double date with Joey and his boyfriend. You don't mind being in the Playground on your own (okay, you're not alone – there are dozens of agents on the base, but the people you think of as SHIELD's core team are all out) since you just spent 10 months more or less alone, but since there's no one here to talk with, spar with, or play videogames with, you're going to watch some TV instead. You figure you'll make yourself some hot chocolate, pull out some Little Debbie snack cakes, and curl up in your bunk under your comforter to wallow in nostalgia.

You lift a sheaf of papers out of the drawer, and the top sheet catches your eye – and stops you in your tracks: it's an incomplete letter from Phil – to you. You thump down into his chair and stare at it a while, trying to wrap your head around it, but no matter how hard you stare at it, it still doesn't make any sense.

_Dear Daisy,_

_~~Allow me to tell you how ardently~~ (Too Darcy-ish!)_   
_I've been trying for some time to find a way to tell you how much ~~you mean to me~~ I love you, but I can never seem to find the words. You've saved my life so many times, and we've been through so much together, and –_

_(Phil Coulson, you pathetic love-sick fool, give it up…)_

You find yourself amused by the notes to himself, but you're still baffled by the letter's contents. You know he loves you, of course – he's been making that obvious for a very long time, one way or another. But you'd never realised that he loved you _like that_ – you're friends, of course, and you definitely love him – you've been through a lot together, and if you've saved his life, he's saved yours, not least when he gave you the GH drug after Quinn shot you. And you can't forget him boarding the Bus after Ward took you from Providence – or the way he chased you into the temple in San Juan, but you'd never really thought to look at his actions in a romantic light. 

Now, though, with this letter in front of you, you find yourself revisiting a lot of moments you've shared together ( _the most beautiful thing I've ever seen_ flits through your brain), and wondering how you could've been so oblivious.

You see the memory stick you were looking for and grab it, then put the papers back in the drawer. You're not sure you'll be able to concentrate on watching the X-Files tonight, but you'll try. You definitely need to think about what to do with this new information, and how to approach Phil with what you've discovered. You head to the kitchen for your supplies, then to your bunk, and you try to decide what to do.

You could be direct – tell him you'd found the letter while looking for your memory stick, and see how he reacts. Part of you likes that idea – it has the advantage of being simple, after all. But you don't want to panic Phil, or embarrass him.

You could be even more direct, and just grab him and kiss him – he'd kiss back, wouldn't he? (Would he, though, you wonder – even if he is 'a love-sick fool', he still might not kiss you back.) 

You shut off the X-Files, and put your laptop aside, then you swing your body around through 180 degrees and lie back with your legs propped on the wall above the headboard of your bed. Perhaps giving yourself a literal new perspective will help you to decide what to do.

Some time later you're still mulling it over, now curled up on your side, when you unintentionally fall asleep. 

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

The vibrations, as much as the noise, of a soft knock on your door wake you, and you call out "Come in" even as you uncurl yourself – you're stiff and cold after your impromptu nap which you realise has lasted two hours.

"Daisy?" Phil's voice is soft and questioning as he looks over at you, probably wondering if you're sick since you've obviously been sleeping and it's only just gone nine o'clock in the evening.

You hear the Director's voice further down the hall, and you beckon Phil to come in and close the door.

"Are you okay?" he asks worriedly.

"Yeah," you say. "Just been thinking about some stuff."

His eyes go soft, and you realise that's something you've seen so many times before when he's looking at you, but you never realised before just what it meant. You reach out for him, and he obligingly comes close enough for you to catch hold of his left hand. 

"I need to talk to you," you tell him seriously, and he immediately moves to sit beside you on the bed, lacing his fingers through yours.

"Everything okay?" he asks, a slightly different question.

"I think so," you say. You lean into his shoulder and he immediately lets go of your hand so he can wrap his arm around your shoulders instead. You wrap your right arm around his waist.

"What do you want to talk about?"

"Us," you say, and you feel a spike of mild alarm in his vibrations.

"Us?" he repeats, sounding doubtful.

"Yeah, Phil." You take a slow, deep breath, then tell him, "I found an unfinished letter in your desk drawer. I'm sorry, I wasn't being nosy – just looking for that memory stick with the X-Files on it."

"Daisy," he says, and his voice sounds so small.

"I feel the same way, Phil," you tell him in a rush. 

"You – you do?" 

"Yeah, Phil." You tighten your arm around him. "I love you, Phil Coulson. I've loved you for a very long time, it just didn't occur to me you felt the same way, or that you'd ever want me in that way."

He's blushing when he turns his face towards yours, but the light in his eyes seems almost dazzling. "Daisy," he breathes, then leans in and presses his lips to yours.

"Phil," you murmur against his lips, then you open your mouth and kiss him properly. He gasps, and you waste no time in insinuating your tongue into his mouth. He groans, and you feel his hand leave your shoulder to cup the back of your head, holding it steady as the two of you kiss and keep kissing for a very long time until you've no breath left.

"I love you," he says breathlessly, and you sling your arms over his shoulders and press your forehead to his.

"I know, you poor love-sick fool," you whisper, and that elicits a chuckle.

"I'm pathetic," he says quietly.

That makes you chuckle in turn. "Yeah, Phil, but you're not the only one." You pull back so you can see his face, then smirk. "You _look_ like a love-sick fool," you tell him.

He pouts at that, which makes you lean in and kiss him again, nibbling at his bottom lip before you suck on it. He groans, a bit too loudly, although May's bunk isn't close enough for her to hear, and the Director's quarters are upstairs by his office, which used to be Phil's office. 

You sense desire colouring Phil's vibrations, and while you'd like nothing better than to have energetic sex with him, you decide you'd rather not do that here tonight. You explain your thinking to Phil, who nods his understanding, then proceeds to apparently try to undo your resolve by kissing you like it's going out of fashion.

It's your turn to groan this time, then you grab his shoulders and tug him down onto the bed, before settling your body over his.

"Is this taking it slow?" he asks, obviously uncertain.

"Maybe," you say, and tuck your head under his chin. He wraps his arms around you, then kisses the top of your head. "Will you stay the night?" you ask.

"This bed's a bit narrow for two people," he observes diffidently. 

You lift your head and say, "Lincoln and I managed."

He winces, looking a bit guilt-stricken. "I'm sorry, Daisy," he says quickly. "I didn't mean – "

"Shh," you say, cutting him off by the simple expedient of kissing him.

"I'll stay," he tells you when you finally release his mouth.

"Good." 

Since your sweatpants and t-shirts are baggy and oversize, he accepts both from you to sleep in, and the two of you quickly get changed. He slips out to the bathroom and back in a stealthy manner which makes you bite your lip and hide a smile before you go and clean your teeth and wash up.

He's sitting on the foot of your bed when you return, and you turn on the light on the nightstand, then switch off the main light, before the two of you snuggle up together in bed. He's not wrong about the bed being small, but you don't mind – you just want to sleep beside him, cuddled up under your comforter.

You stretch out and switch off the lamp, then settle back against Phil's chest, the two of you having decided that spooning is probably the easiest way to share your bed.

"Goodnight Phil."

"Goodnight Daisy." He presses his lips to the nape of your neck, and you feel your belly shiver, but you don't say anything – the gesture is tender and loving, just like the man at your back.

You slide easily into sleep.


End file.
